


Lucy Ann's Last Gift

by TerrifyingTyrannosaurusTurtle



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6735838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifyingTyrannosaurusTurtle/pseuds/TerrifyingTyrannosaurusTurtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had always taken it upon herself to remind him of his humanity. Even after death she still did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lucy Ann left him, crossed the great divide between worlds, and was forever lost to him. Dipper didn't open her gift to him until nearly a hundred years after her death.

They were books. So so many books, all preserved beyond the ravages of time. Inside were pictures, all hand drawn, all perfectly recreated likenesses. Each page, each section devoted to a different person in his life. Bentley and Torako had an entire book between the two of them. Hank had an entire shelf.

He shouldn't be crying, he really shouldn't have been. He would ruin the book he had just taken off the back row. Inside the front cover was a self portrait of a little girl in a red cloak.


	2. On Forgetting and Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two of the many times that Lucy Ann's gift saved him.

Alcor could ignore summons now. He never did, though. Where was the fun in that? He enjoyed their screams, their pitiful deaths, for he was power incarnate and what chance did a willow leaf have in a hurricane? There was one summons he could never seem to answer though. It bit at him, rankled him, stung his subconscious as the decades wore to centuries and even the centuries dragged on. One day it became insistent, and drove him to a frothing fury he hadn’t felt in a long time. In a fever he finally found the tail end of the summons and pulled, blipping himself to the source.

The breath whooshed out of him as sudden and sharp as the bellows of a fire. He knew this place, knew the thick oaken door that stood before him. His fingers, almost of their own accord, curled towards the door, claws shrinking back to form human fingertips. The door swung open.

Tears were streaming down his face, and he didn’t know why. Faces of humans stared out at him, faces of-

\- _livestock fit for nothing, screams to be thrown into his maw, to rip and tear_

\- friends. Family. He spread the books around him, and with a finesse his hands hadn’t seen in a long time, he carefully turned the pages. Slowly, the stories they told became familiar, secret jokes were remembered, and Alcor the Dreambender, Death of Peace, Destroyer of Light, friend, father, and brother cried for all the lost time.

 

 

It was the end of the world, and he was tired. He wanted to go to sleep, to sleep for an eternity, and never wake up. That’s not what she would have wanted. She would have wanted him to try, to invent a new way out, and so he did.

It was time, but he was scared. Scared of dying, after all these millennia, scared of forgetting. 

They gathered around him, his nightmares and his dreams, with the thousands and thousands of books piled around him, ready to hear one last bedtime story.

“It all started long ago, when two twins left home to find adventure in the woods…” The ancient dream god opened a bright pink scrapbook for the last time.


End file.
